


Wanna Make You Feel Wanted (Excerpt)

by thisismy_design (thisismydesignn)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bisexuality, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, F/M, Fingerfucking, Friends With Benefits, Sex, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-31
Updated: 2014-01-31
Packaged: 2018-01-10 16:16:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1161869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisismydesignn/pseuds/thisismy_design
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So, Stiles might like boys. Caitlin's more than happy to help him test that theory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wanna Make You Feel Wanted (Excerpt)

**Author's Note:**

> Background: this is actually an excerpt from a larger fic I'm writing with [Claire](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Bupkis/), in which Stiles starts questioning his sexuality and Caitlin helps him through it. At this point, she and Stiles have already had sex once and they're basically friends with benefits.
> 
> Title from "Wanted" ([x](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p8XLbwvcR7s)).

They’re watching a movie, Caitlin’s legs stretched across Stiles’ lap. She’s fidgeting, and he’s trying to keep his eyes on the screen, trying not to look at her even as his thumb presses to her ankle, dragging along her skin. She relaxes under his touch but he’s still hyper-aware of her every move, barely registering the flicker of the screen—

“Have you thought about it?” she asks, and the sound of her voice catches him off guard. (She’s always been good at that.)

“About…?”

“What it’d be like. To sleep with a guy.”

She’s looking at him now, oddly intent, but the hint of a smile hovers over her lips, and Stiles scrambles to hit “pause” before he can even stop to think. He’s looking back at her and he wants to look away, feels the flush rising in his cheeks, and— right, she’s waiting for an answer.

“I—” and his voice cracks, of _course_ it does. He clears his throat, licks his lips, tries again. “Yeah. I have.”

“Anyone in particular?” she asks, and Stiles’ face heats up even more.

“K— kind of?”

“I won’t ask who,” she promises. ( _Because I already know,_ she doesn’t say, but Stiles can see it in the way she raises an eyebrow, faintly amused.)

“What have you thought about?” and he really needs to start anticipating these questions, because, _shit._ But she keeps talking, saving him from himself, and he could kiss her, has to hold himself back, because—

“Have you thought about kissing him?” and her hand slips to the bare strip of skin where her shirt has hiked up, fingers trailing lightly over her stomach, and she still hasn’t taken her eyes off Stiles. “Kissing a guy, it’s…it’s different from kissing a girl. Rougher,” and she reaches up with her unoccupied hand to trace her knuckles along the edge of Stiles’ jaw. “Not just scratchier,” and he smiles a bit at that as she touches her thumb to his skin, “but more— demanding.”

Her thumb catches on Stiles’ lower lip and presses in, just barely between his teeth. His tongue darts out and he opens his mouth just a bit further as her other hand slips lower, teasing along the waist of her jeans. “And the feeling of his body pressed to yours— like he’s everywhere at once,” and Stiles takes her thumb in further, caught between his tongue and the roof of his mouth as her eyelashes flutter, breath hitching.

She pulls her hand back a moment later and Stiles is the tiniest bit disappointed, but she keeps talking and he nearly forgets to care.

“You can feel his cock pressed against your thigh, and he’s hard, and knowing _you_ did that,” and she shudders a bit, unbuttoning her jeans, every motion deliberate. Somewhere in the back of his mind this strikes Stiles as a very good idea, feels his cock straining against his zipper already, but he’s afraid if he moves he’ll break the spell, so he just watches and tries to remember how to breathe as Caitlin slips her fingers into her panties and grins up at him, cheeks flushing. “That feeling of power, knowing he wants you so badly…it’s incredible.”

“Would you jerk him off?” she asks, and now _she’s_ having trouble maintaining eye contact, lids threatening to close, but she keeps her gaze on Stiles nonetheless. “Feel the weight of his cock in your hand? Bet you’d know exactly what to do to drive him crazy— same equipment, and all that— and those hands of yours, fuck, Stiles, your _hands_ ,” and that’s it, that’s so far _past_ it.

His fingers wrap around her wrist until she pulls her hand out of her jeans, fingers wet and Stiles can’t help but take them between his lips, licking away every trace of her taste, listening to her moan and he hasn’t even touched her yet.

He moves to tug her jeans down and she’s one step ahead, lifting her hips so he can get them out of the way, down to her knees and he spreads her thighs as best he can and presses his thumb to her clit, teases at her entrance with the tip of his middle finger and she’s so, _so_ wet.

“Bet he’d love your hands,” she murmurs, just a bit breathless, and Stiles is shocked she can still _think,_ let alone speak, his own mind foggy with lust. (Not that he’s complaining, mind.)

He slides one finger into Caitlin, feels her breath hitch, a soft laugh escaping; a second slips in too easily and she makes a satisfied noise, biting her lip as he starts to fuck her with his fingers.

“God, yes,” and suddenly she’s looking him in the eye again, trembling but determined. “Would you get on your knees for him?” and in an instant that’s exactly where he is, pulling Caitlin to the edge of the couch. She kicks off her jeans as he unzips his own, anything to relieve the pressure, and his breath is hot on her thighs as she laces a hand into his hair, wonders aloud, “Would you let him tug your hair while you sucked his cock?”

Stiles groans, and moments later he’s leaning forward, pressing the flat of his tongue between her legs and dragging _up,_ feeling her fingers tighten against his scalp as she moans hysterically.

“Press your tongue just beneath the head, because you know he likes that,” she manages as Stiles laps at her clit, “Take him so deep down your throat you can hardly breathe but it’s _worth_ it just to hear those noises he’s making,” and Stiles can’t help it any longer, slips a hand into his jeans, around his cock, imagining every word and he moans with his mouth pressed to Caitlin’s skin, sucks her clit between his lips, teasing it with the tip of his tongue, feeling her fall apart above, around him.

He’s relentless, but she is too: when she can finally breathe again, she murmurs, “Would you let him fuck you?”

Stiles doesn’t miss a beat, slides his fingers into her once more, listens to her draw a shaky breath and he would swear he can hear her smile. “That’s right— right _there,_ ” and she moans as he crooks his fingers up, pulling back and thrusting in again and she’s still talking, telling him, “He’d open you up with his fingers, maybe even his tongue,” and she’s almost tempted to let him but _oh,_ no, right there is— _fuck,_ “S’perfect,” and she can feel the curve of his smile between her legs, feels it _everywhere_.

She tugs a bit at his hair and, well, why stop now? “Can you imagine the way his cock would feel as it slides into you? Filling you up, like—” his fingers press even deeper, and her voice catches on a gasp—  “Like he’s reaching places inside of you that…that you didn’t know existed, like every nerve in your body is telling you how much you want this, how _deep_ he is, and you never want it to end,” and then she’s tugging at his hair again, insistent this time, pulling his face up to hers and his mouth is shining and she kisses him hard, hungry, tasting herself on his tongue and she wants, she _wants_. “Stiles. Please, _please_ fuck me already.”

It’s not like the first time. He doesn’t ask her _are you sure,_ doesn’t bother with _is this okay,_ takes her word for it and tugs his jeans down, retrieves the condom from his pocket (grins at her giggled “boy scout,”) rolls it down his length without a moment’s hesitation.

She stretches along the couch, turning so her back is to him and reaches back to pull him forward, feeling him lift her thigh, guide his cock into her from behind and _that_ , well. She makes a noise somewhere between a sigh and a moan, letting her head fall back against his shoulder, and she feels him press a kiss to the corner of her mouth, his fingers splayed across her hip as he thrusts in, rhythm a little bit erratic and it’s _perfect_.

“Just imagine, Stiles,” she says, because she can’t not, “the scrape of his beard along your jaw as his lips part beneath yours— looking up from your knees, catching a glimpse of those green eyes as you take his cock in your mouth— feeling him slide into you, hitting that _spot_ as your fingers curl around his arms, _god_ , those arms— his hands holding your hips down—” and Stiles’ fingers are tightening against her skin, and she knows he’s close, reaches down to thumb at her clit as she trembles, gives him permission.

“Is that what you want? Derek to hold you down, kiss you hard, fuck you harder?” And Stiles’ hips stutter just as she tightens around him, reaching back to hold him inside. He comes so hard Caitlin swears she can feel it, impossibly deep and she’s exhausted and _hopelessly_ thrilled.

She relaxes her grip, lets him pull out, clenching around emptiness with a hint of disappointment. She turns around as best she can between his body and the couch, smiling when she sees the tips of his ears flush red as he buries his face in her neck. He makes a noise against her skin and it’s a moment before she realizes it’s nervous laughter, his shoulders shaking ever so slightly.

“Well, that happened,” he states when he manages to lift his head; despite his nonchalant tone, he won’t quite look her in the eye. She tilts his chin up to face her, murmurs, “Yes it did,” and kisses him, open-mouthed and lazy until he relaxes against her, kissing back.

When she pulls away, she’s flushed, hair a mess, but she’s all business. “So I guess that answers our first question.” He grins a bit, ducks his head, and she continues, “Now for step two…how does one seduce Derek Hale?”


End file.
